


Winchester at the doorstep

by AuzzieToTheBone



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff and Angst, M/M, not really??ish?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 13:18:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4436909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuzzieToTheBone/pseuds/AuzzieToTheBone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Person A is a delivery man, Person B has a online shopping addiction. </p><p>Person A is Dean, Person B is Cas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Winchester at the doorstep

**Author's Note:**

> Short drabble I was asked for, so here it is :)  
> New to fan fiction and no idea what I'm doing :XD

17 Heavens Close. Dean Winchesters Nemesis. The house not only belonged to some rich, trust fund kid but was also nearly impossible to get his cheap as they come, hardly road worthy van up to. The expensive bachelor pad was nestled behind a mass of well-groomed hedges and rose bushes. Not only did the leaves get sucked into his wheels, the drive way was up possibly the biggest hill in all of Kansas, causing hill starts to be a real bitch. The place was a nightmare to deliver to, so of course the house had to be on the Winchesters route. 

Had the owner been receiving normal sized letters, like the rest of this civilised nation then perhaps Dean would think about being more kind about his deliveries, if they were not so frequent. Parcels ranging from precious cargo, to that the size of flats screens were trudged up that godforsaken hill, all ranging from far off places, hell one even came from Australia. 

It hadn’t always been like this. The Winchester had first only visited the gigantic residents a few times when he first started his job at the post office a year ago.However soon those visits turned weekly, hell sometime even thrice a week. He had no idea what the crazy son of a bitch was buying, or why he couldn’t just collect it from the post office himself. Benny, his letter sorter at the home base had started a betting pool on what the posties in the region thought the owner was buying. All in good jest of course. Well, that’s how it was justified. Dean didn’t see the funny side.

The guy, going by the name “Mr Novak” etched on every parcel, got more money then 99% of Kansas. Meanwhile Dean can hardly earn enough to feed his little brother or keep up with rent, let alone order online. One Day, which had been particularly exhausting as his father once again left to go interstate in an attempt to track the murderer of his wife without leaving any thing for his boys again, Dean snapped.

Walked up to the front door, rang the bell and instead of rushing off, waited to rip into the millionaire jerk. However the planned went out the window, as blood rushed south when he was greeted at the door. The man was not the skinny kid Dean had been expecting. Nor as modest as most human beings. In front of Dean stood a shirtless Greek god, with a towel wrapped around his hips. God the hip bones were delicious. Deans eyes followed the bones upwards to a slender, yet defined stomach that clearly indicated a runner and arms that looked to die for, Jesus he looked practically solid. When Dean finally stopped gawking, his predicament only became worse. Blue eyes bore into his as a smirk slid across the other mans face, clearly becoming aware of Deans straying eyes.  
“Package for Mr Novak” Dean coughed out, placing the box at the mans feet. Then turning around in an attempt to make a run for it.  
“Thank you, Its nice to finally put a face to the attractive post man who’s been supplying my goods for a year now”. The mans voice rumbled in a low tone, distinctly reminding Dean of a thunderstorm. As well as turning Dean the fuck on. 

“Um right, yer, thanks” was all Dean could manage.  
“Something you wanted?”  
Shit, right, he was still standing in the poor’s guys door way.

“I um, just wanted to know why you spent so much money on junk.” The words flowed out of the Winchesters mouth before he could stop himself. Fuck. The guy tilted his head and squinted his eyes, as if that was the most interesting thing someone had ever said.  
“Its for my charity. The items I buy, while im aware are in obsessive amounts, all go towards helping those disadvantaged in the economy today. For each dollar I spend, I donated double it to the struggling youth of today”. Wow did Dean feel like A dick.  
He shot out of their like a bat out of hell.

The next day an item was returned by a Castiel Novak to Deans pigeon hole, with the words scribbled on it,  
I apologise for my state of undress, next time I will be dressed more appropriately.  
A phone number was scribbled next to it.


End file.
